Under the Mistletoe
by Eyrmia
Summary: "That is not the color of mistletoe," Ratchet snapped, glaring at the human. Miko merely smirked and held up her phone, which had a picture of the red berry on its screen. Ratchet/Arcee


**AN:** Yes, I know it's not Christmas. Don't judge me!

* * *

"That is _not_ the color of mistletoe," Ratchet snapped, glaring at the human. Miko merely smirked and held up her phone, which had a picture of the red berry on its screen.

"Mistletoe isn't black or purple, Doc-bot," she said smugly. "It's red."

"It's not Cybertronian custom to – what was it, _kiss_? – under this 'mistletoe.' Cybertronians don't even kiss! Why stick your glossa in another bot's mouth? That's simply unsanitary and utterly _disgusting_ ," the medic retorted.

"Then what _do_ you do?"

"It's called nuzzling," Wheeljack called from the other side of the hanger, grinning. "Kind of like what Earth's cats do. It's our way of showing affection." Ratchet scoffed at Wheeljack's comparison.

"Then do _that_ ," Miko said, gesturing to the bots. Arcee crossed her servos and shook her helm defiantly.

"No."

"Oh, come _on_ , guys!" the girl whined, removing her Santa hat and holding it before her while making puppy eyes. "Get into the Christmas spirit!"

"I don't think Christmas is for me," Ratchet and Arcee both said at the same time, and Miko grew a grin so wide it reached her ears.

"That was adorable!" she squealed, and there were several sniggers in other points in the room from Wheeljack, Smokescreen, Jack, and Bulkhead. Bumblebee beeped in amusement, and Ratchet shot him a cold glare, causing the scout to go mute immediately.

Suddenly Miko seemed to have formulated a plan.

"Tell you what, Doc–" He snarled at the nickname. "–if you and Arcee 'nuzzle,' then I will be quiet for a week. I won't bug you – meaning I won't call you 'Doc, Doc-bot,' or any of those names, I won't bring my guitar, and I won't sneak on missions," she said, counting on her fingers. "That goes for Arcee, too."

"Make it a month," Arcee said, expression thoughtful. Miko frowned, but then realized that Arcee was saying she _would_ do it.

"Sure–"

"Four months. No – _Six_ ," Ratchet cut in, optics narrowing. The girl whimpered.

"Four," she tried to bargain. The medic narrowed his optics. "Do you want peace and quiet or not?"

"Five and that's it."

"Alright!" Miko exclaimed. "Now ki– _nuzzle_." She grinned darkly. Ratchet glared at her, servo clenching and unclenching in fury. Arcee's optic was twitching as well, and she scowled at anyone who dared to laugh at their predicament. This didn't deter Wheeljack and Smokescreen's snickers though, and she silently swore that she'd get them back once this was over.

"Well?" Bulkhead asked, retreating a few steps when both bots turned their icy gazes on him. After a few tense moments, Arcee finally took the lead. She grabbed Ratchet's servo and yanked him towards her, then got pushed herself onto the tips of her pedes and nuzzled his faceplate – she even _purred_.

The femme pulled away, then stalked over to Smokescreen and punched him in the ventral plating. She proceeded to do the same to Wheeljack. They both doubled over, groaning, but _still_ chuckling.

Ratchet stood, motionless, optics spiraled wide. Miko ran over and kicked his pede.

"Yoohoo, Do–" She stopped herself just in time. " _Ratchet_ , wake up!"

He shook his helm, then tilted it down to frown at the annoying human. "I _am_ awake, thank you very much," he growled, then walked over to the computer. Miko smiled at Arcee, and she simply cycled her vents and turned her helm away. The human girl climbed back up to the human area, then leaned over to Bulkhead and Wheeljack.

"I think they actually _enjoyed_ that," she whispered. Wheeljack snorted, and Bulkhead cast an anxious glance Ratchet's way. The medic was standing rigid, servo wrapped around his wrench. Wheeljack opened his mouth to reply to Miko's comment, but the same wrench hit him on the helm as his voicebox cycled up.

"Not. A. Word," the doctor said darkly, and the Wrecker shut his mouth with a snap.

Miko went over to the lounge area and sat on the couch, then pulled out her phone. _Best. Christmas._ Ever _,_ she thought, smiling at the picture she had taken. That was definitely one she would not delete.


End file.
